


Five Long Years

by Darkestsiren



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkestsiren/pseuds/Darkestsiren
Summary: After five long years of near estrangement, Justin finally asks for what he really wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The second in my little series of what I think may have happened after the end of the show. I'm posting each one separately, not as a linked series so… keep an eye out. Hope you like. ;)

Justin walked to Brian’s loft slowly, enjoying the cool night air against his face. He’d left his mother’s apartment after dinner. He was buzzed but not drunk. But buzzed. He had to be in order to follow through with his plan. He would have been too nervous otherwise. As it was the tumble of somersaulting insects in his belly was getting more and more acrobatic the longer he walked. The more sober he got. The closer to the loft he got; the closer to Brian. 

It had been five years. 

Five fucking years. 

It’s not like they hadn’t talked during those years, they had. They’d maintained a distant friendship, each periodically asking after the other’s well being, professional successes, etc. They’d carefully steered clear of anything personal however. Something told Justin he didn’t want to know. He no longer had any right to that information and it would only hurt to know that Brian was back to his usual ways. Brian never asked him whether he’d met anyone special either, and so Justin found himself on the edge of a dangerous precipice. 

He stood in front of the door to Brian’s building for a full fifteen minutes before he found the strength to use the key he still had and let himself in. What would he do if Brian was… entertaining? If he wasn’t home? Justin took a breath, solidified his resolve, and climbed the three flights of stairs up to Brian’s liar. The door was exactly as he remembered; cold steel. Both welcoming and forbidding at once. He raised his fist and pounded three times in quick succession. 

Inside, Justin heard someone cursing. The door slid back with a roar and Justin swallowed, staring up at Brian in open-mouthed silence. His heart, which had been hammering loudly for the last half hour, went suddenly still, his breath catching in his throat. 

Brian stared back at him in similar shock, his jaw working as though he wanted to say something but no sound came out. He wore a white wife beater and jeans slung low on his immaculate hips, his hair falling forward sinfully, as it always did. His eyes though, Justin thought, his eyes were sharp. 

Before either of them could speak Brian swept Justin into his arms and pulled him in as tightly as he could. He buried his face in the curve of Justin’s neck, his breath warm and perfect on his skin. Justin rose up on his toes and pressed himself into him, wove his fingers into Brian’s soft, dark hair. He drew in his scent and fought back the prick of tears.

“Justin,” Brian whispered, breath hitching. He was shaking. “Justin.”

Justin held him tighter, fisting his hair and turning his face so he could press his lips into Brian’s neck, and let his own tears fall. 

They stood like that, like two bodies trying to meld themselves into one, for a long while, each unwilling to let go. Five years was a long time. 

“I missed you,” Justin said, lips brushing Brian’s ear. 

A shiver went through Brian and he curved in a little, as if it hurt to hear. 

“I missed you, Brian,” Justin repeated. “I love you.”

Brian’s arms tightened impossibly and Justin could feel the uneven, desperate, gasping way Brian was breathing, could feel the tremor that shook his whole frame. Justin drew his head back slowly, skimming Brian’s tear-streaked cheek, until he could dip his chin and capture his lips. Brian kissed him slowly, drinking him in, drowning in him. His hand came up to cup the back of Justin’s head, fingers sifting through his hair, angling him for a deeper kiss. Justin welcomed him in, opening his mouth and taking everything Brian would give him, as always. His fingers traced the edges of Brian’s cheekbones, his jaw, the planes of his face, learning his ever-familiar features anew.

They stood there in the doorway, kissing, wrapped so tightly together that no force but their own will could have separated them, until Brian finally stumbled back a step, pulling Justin inside. He pivoted, drew the door closed and pressed Justin back against it, kissing him hard and deep and relentlessly, until they were both breathing hard, fingers reaching for belts and buttons and waistbands. 

A firm hand stopped him just before Justin reached into Brian’s pants. Justin broke the kiss and looked up into Brian’s face. Brian’s eyes were closed, his brow pinched, cheeks flushed. He was so fucking beautiful.

Brian swallowed, took a breath, licked his lips. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he smiled, brown eyes finally opening to find Justin’s.

Justin let out a little breathy laugh and bit his lip. The tumble of nerves he’d forgotten swarmed in Justin’s stomach again, making him squeeze his fingers more tightly around Brian’s arm and shoulder. He dropped his eyes, trying to make his brain work.

“A lot has changed since… since I first went to New York,” he said slowly. “I’ve done what I set out to do, and I want different things now.”

Brian dropped his arms, but he took Justin’s hand and led him over to the couch. A man came out of the bedroom, partially dressed, and made his way to the door, slipping into his shirt and jacket on the way.

“See ya,” the man called over his shoulder.

Brian didn’t answer, didn’t even look. The man shook his head and let himself out, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Justin closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to ignore the dropping, nauseous feeling in his stomach. He’d known Brian wouldn’t have given up sex, but seeing it still hurt. 

“So, what do you want now?” Brian asked, bringing Justin back to himself. 

“You.” It was simple, deceptively simple. And it was anything but simple. “It’s been five years since we said we loved each other. Since we decided not to get married.” Justin looked away, searching for the right words. “I went to New York to become a real artist, and I have. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters when you can’t share it with the people you love.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was it. Now or never. “I love you Brian, and I want you to come live in New York, with me.” 

Brian stared at him in shock, his mouth in a little ‘O.’

Justin curled in on himself, tucking his feet under him on the couch. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and kind of crazy, especially after all this time. And, I understand if you can’t leave your business, or if…” he fought the tremor in his voice, “if you don’t… love me anymore.”

“I will always love you, Justin,” Brian said. His voice didn’t shake. 

Justin flicked his eyes up, meeting Brian’s. He wasn’t sure what Brian saw reflected in them, but whatever it was made Brian lean over and kiss him again. Justin whimpered gratefully and pulled Brian into him.

“I don’t like living without you,” Justin admitted when they parted a few minutes later. “And I’m tired of doing it. If you can’t come to New York, I’ll move back to Pittsburg. I can manage my career from here.” Justin dropped his gaze. “That is… If you want…” 

Brian was silent so long Justin was forced to look up again. When he did he found Brian staring into the distance with a crease between his brows. He worried at his lip with his teeth, a movement Justin had to force himself to look away from. 

Finally, still with no answer, Justin stood up. “Well. I guess I have my answer,” he said, starting toward the door. He clamped his jaw shut tight, trying to stave off the tears. 

A hand closed around his as he reached for the door handle. 

“No,” Brian said. “You don’t.” 

Justin froze, not daring to hope, not daring to turn and look. 

Brian sighed. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone, dialed and waited. “Look into what it would take to open a Kinnetic branch in New York. Soon.”

The voice on the other end said something Justin couldn’t make out. 

“Yes, Theodore. Call me when you have something.” Brian ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. 

Justin spun around, burying himself in Brian’s chest, relief and hope flooding through him. Brian laughed. He coiled his arms around Justin, pulling him in until Justin raised his head and met Brian’s eyes.

“I’m tired of living without you too,” Brian said, bending to kiss him. 

Justin smiled into the kiss. He let himself melt into it, losing himself in the warm softness of Brian’s mouth, the headiness of his familiar taste, the silkiness of his skin. This time when Justin reached for his zipper, Brian didn’t stop him. He pinned Justin against the door, devoured him, stripped him. Brian fumbled a condom from a nearby drawer and hoisted Justin up, eager hands beneath his thighs. He pressed inside, slow and sure, and Justin cried out, grateful and gasping. 

“Brian,” he called. “Brian!” Justin curled himself around Brian, taking every thrust, every cry, every shudder. He held Brian so tight it hurt, teeth and nails biting into his skin, heels pressed into his back. 

“Justin, fuck!” Brian’s mouth was open, head pitched back slightly as pleasure shook through him. “I love you,” he said softly, breath hitching. “I love you.” 

Justin caught his mouth, swallowing his cries, his love, letting his own pour into Brian. 

They came together, gasping and panting, words of love tumbling between them, and when Brian finally pulled free, he carried Justin into the bedroom and laid him on the bed carefully, lying beside him, spent and happy. Their limbs twined together, fingers traced the contours of their bodies, heated and damp. They kissed here and there, breathing together, their eyes rarely parting. After a time they made love again. And again. And again. And again.

**Author's Note:**

> And there we are! Let me know what you thought!


End file.
